Passion and Vanity
by darkwriter1
Summary: Entering her 7thyr. Hermione is Headgirl, smart, and engaged against her will. Draco Malfoy was the type of guy who sampled women like he sampled wine. No bottle was too rare or too fine for him except for one and now he was out to save her.
1. A Summer Ball

A Summer Ball

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Authors Note: Just read and review! Always looking for positive and _constructive _input. Thanks everyone!

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She had no desire for attending the lacy, summer balls in Stratford. The crowds of scantily dressed women hanging on power-hungry men caused her stomach to turn with nerves. The exchange of false pleasantries and half-smiles grated away at her patience. It was an obscene display of money, beauty, and social stature. Worst, however, was _his_ presence.

And yet, there she was, compliantly dressing without modesty, smiling flatly when greeted, and serving when asked.

Not of choice, of course, none of it was. It was all an act composed by a man who, just a year and six ago, did not even know her name. And now she found her future so deeply intertwined with this man she could never love. _This man_, her fiancé, was Caliper Stratford. He had a short tempter and was quick to point a finger when things went wrong. As for manners, Hermione was sure he was no tamer than a pig. But the worst (and she had found that over the last few months, all she could do is point out 'worsts') was that he had _bought _her, the same way a man would buy a horse or cattle. He bought her hand in marriage as payment for a service she never asked him to render.

_There is hope, _she reminded herself as she lifted a glass of champagne to her lips, _hope that Voldemort could relieve some of his anger upon him, that her family could find a way to buy her back out of this, that perhaps there was in fact someone who could help her… _Hermione smiled grimly as she surveyed the dance floor from Caliper's side. She thought on the form her savior would take, the one who would rescue her from this hellish descent.

It wasn't that Caliper was a terrible man. He bought her beautiful clothing and valuable jewelry, as well as flowers and sweets from all over the world. But Hermione knew he did that only to keep appearances. Most evenings he would drink heavily and then return to the summer residence in a flurry. Hermione often found herself being the one having to calm the beast while enduring a slew of insults in relation to her blood and body.

When sober, he was overprotective. Yet, as soon as a pretty pair of legs came by, he had his eyes glued shamelessly until they disappeared.

"Get me another drink," Caliper snapped at her as he engaged animatedly with a few of his friends.

Hermione, shocked, came back down to reality. She nodded and walked in the direction of refreshments. The music, to which she found herself walking in beat, was all too happy for her mood. If she didn't have her calm wrapped so tightly about her, then Hermione might've gone over there and told them to shove it.

"Be quick, woman!" he hollered after her. It took the rest of her self control to bite back the anger she was about to sputter. Long ago she had learned it was useless to lose her temper, so instead she mentally struck him down. _You pompous, arrogant, deceitful… _and all of the usual terms of_ 'endearment'_ she saved for him as she continued walking away.

-

"Mr. Malfoy, so glad you were able to attend tonight!" greeted a very cheery voice from behind which was laced with sarcasm. "I thought that perhaps some _unseen__ circumstance_ might have arisen," the familiar face wriggled an eyebrow as he continued, "and you'd be missing in action tonight. Well… not _missing in action, _in that sense, anyways." He winked with a smug grin of all knowing.

"Don't be ridiculous. You know I _hate_ these parties. People all dressed up, dancing and sweating and alluding to things- _ah-_ you know." Malfoy leaned back on his chair and placed his boots on the table. He was dressed awfully casual for the party's standards, wearing a pair of dress pants that accentuated his height and a loose, plain white shirt. But no one _ever_ questioned a Malfoy.

"Draco," said Blaise, releasing a sign, "I daresay you are right, but you should try to enjoy yourself. There are many fine women here. Some may even suit your tastes for a night or two…" Blaise gave a small grin and quickly added, "But, unlike you, I must be leaving now. I _do _have a prior engagement to attend to. So, I'll catch you later. I'm sure I'll see you before school start, considering we still have two weeks. Try not to get into too much trouble, eh?" With a cuff on the shoulder that Malfoy shrugged off, Blaise was gone.

It wasn't long before Malfoy grew bored of watching the rows of dancers and got up to entertain himself. Maybe Blaise was right, he _should _try to enjoy himself. His parents were busily talking with the other powerful faces, men were filling their bodies with wine, and women in hordes were walking about. Oh! The women! In their dresses either cut too low for their chests or too short for their legs! Tall and perky, short and voluptuous—the whole species of women seemed to be represented in the small confine. However, it was _one_ woman, whose face was not a complete stranger, that caught his eye.

Seated on a chair off to the side, she was surrounded by a multitude of admirers and gentlemen asking for dances (all of which she turned down, of course). The dress she wore was a magnificent shade of emerald, complimenting not only her natural features, but her body shape. It had a plunging V neckline that carved her chest out beautifully, fabric that clung to her hips, and gathered at her feet. Her golden brown hair was pulled up behind her head elegantly, with a few loose curls hanging around her face. Malfoy, observing the young woman, wondered who she could be. _ If she is a wife of one of the men here in the room, I should know her... Perhaps she is one of the imported mistresses that are bought?_

"She's beautiful, ain't she?" an older voice came from behind.

"Jeck!" Draco turned around with a foreign feeling of happiness rising in his throat. "It's been a long time since I've seen you!"

"Same to yourself. How's things been? Women hunting again, I see? You haven't changed a bit!" Jeck was just shorter than Malfoy and was dressed much nicer. He was a childhood friend from the school of Durmstrang. Over the summers the two of them used to hang out and have adventures, most due to their family relationships, but nevertheless. The two found confidence within once another.

"Change means nothing to me, for I am who I am." Draco lifted the glass in his hand to his lips and wicked grin, "All the better for the women I believe?" The two shared laughter as they continued to watch the woman that had claimed Draco's attention.

"How many this summer so far?"

"Too many for both my hands," smirked Draco, "But tell me, who is that?"

"Now that pretty thing is Caliper's hitch—She has been to a handful of these balls now all summer, so I am surprised you haven't seen her. She is Miss Granger, Hermione Granger?" Draco choked on the wine with surprise, "Do you know her?"

"Oh," Draco started, regaining his composure instantly, "No." He ran his fingers through his golden hair. Hermione Granger, engaged to the likes of Stratford? It was way out of her class, and blood. He noted the many men around her and felt a pang in his stomach that he passed off as a growing curiosity of her situation. "Engaged, you say?"

"A misfortune for us, I say," chuckled Jeck, "she's simply superb, and she has quite the tongue—intellect I mean," he added quickly after Draco threw a confused glance in his direction.

"And idea how they met?" asked Draco, not taking his eyes off Hermione. He had seen her thousands upon thousands of times over the last six years, so this time should have been no different. Except it was, in every way, it was completely and utterly different. He couldn't pin point what it was exactly—an outside of school encounter, her without her uniform on, or the fact that there were legions of men openly expressing their infatuation towards what he had never seen greater than a mudblood bookworm? Even those seemed slight reasons.

"Not quite sure, just a few loose rumors here and there. Some say they're friends from youth, while others say they met at school, and even a few rumors of betrothal," Jeck laughed however, and added, "My thought though, is that there is something going on deep then that, yeah?"

"Hm?" Draco didn't remove his eyes from Hermione. She held herself with a grace he had never seen before, a calm, a confidence. "I am not quite sure I follow."

"Caliper ain't the nicest lookin guy, if you know what I mean. No woman would willingly choose him to be their husband."

"What are you saying?" This time Draco did turn to study his friends face.

"Nothing, nothing, just speculating. That's all." Jeck shrugged and the two moved through towards where Hermione sat, across the great crowds of the room. "I've known Caliper since I was a first year in Durmstrang."

"So Caliper _is_ a wizard?" Draco, well knowing that the Stratfords were a long line of purebloods, meant the comment as an insult.

"You better be careful what you say. Caliper still has in with our Master. He graduated from Durmstrang and moved back here when he completed the academy about three years ago." Jeck looked at his old friend, "His family has power, you know, and money."

"And so do mine, if not more," replied Draco smoothely. "I think I want to meet this… _Miss Granger._"

"Interested in Miss Granger, are you?" The two walked closer in to the small group of five men surrounding Hermione. "Well, you'd better be careful. She's not even your type. I don't even know if she's very experienced in bed. I mean, it's a questionable thing, but by the looks of it, I'd say she's one of the only innocent faces in this place."

"Who said I wanted to sleep with her?" Draco almost took offense at first, but then realized it would be out of character. He did, however, find it strange that it wasn't his first thought though, or his second. In fact, _sleeping_ with Hermione had not crossed his mind in a very long time.

"Draco, we've been friends since we could waddle in our diapers. Even back then you were sneakin peaks when the girls took showers. I only wanted to warn you that Caliper keeps her on a tight leash. He may be constantly very… generous with his breeches, but he'll have no such thing with the future little miss."

"I'd believe it," said Draco, recalling the few times he spoke to Caliper. Draco never had a taste for him or his lack of manners and respect for anyone. "Do you know her well enough to introduce me?" Part of him wanted to go over there and sincerely speak with her, but another, more dominant part of him just desired to see her squirm in her seat at the sight of him. Habits die hard.

"I've only spoke with her a few times. Very intelligent," Jeck brought himself to the edge of the small group and looked expectantly towards Hermione.

"Jeck, It's been a while since I've seen you! How've you been?" She smiled for the first time with a happiness that actually reached her eyes. She begged apologies to the men around her and then turned back to Jeck. The men disbanded looking a little hurt. _They'll be back soon enough_, Draco thought.

"I don't think I've seen you at a ball for over a week now! How could you leave me at the mercy of the wolves?" The two laughed together. Again, Draco felt his gut clench but he forced it to relax.

"I've brought _another_ wolf I fear, the Alpha himself." She laughed again at his comment.

"Well, I hope he doesn't bite-" Draco stepped out from behind Jeck and she found her sentence lost. Hermione could feel her cheeks growing hot as a lurch of nerves spread through her body. It was brief, but her face iced over and she spoke with an unbelievable sureness. "Draco Malfoy, what a pleasure."

"Miss Granger," drawled Draco, sweeping into a bow. "The pleasure is all mine." He let his eyes wander up until they locked for a minute. Hermione was ablaze with anger at his unabashed forthrightness. "I was hoping you would, _ah, _perhaps give me the privilege of the next dance with you? I like the violin and cello very much and-" he paused to raise his ear just slightly, "it seems they will be playing my very favorite one."

Jeck watched his friend at work, thinking that that was exactly what he was doing._ Working a woman over. _However Malfoy's intentions, even to himself, were not entirely clear. Part of him was savoring her clear discomfort, but another did not want to press further. _What in God's name am I doing?_ Hermione was asking herself the very same questions but before she could give her answer, Draco had swept her off her chair and down unto the floor.

In long lines the dancers lined up—women in one line facing the men in another. Music began to drift from the small band and the lines of women and men bowed to their partners before stepping forth into the rehearsed dances of the upper classes.

The song progressed and Hermione stared straight back into the face of her greatest rival. They stepped forward and their shoulders met. They began to revolve around that point of connection. "What do you think you are doing, Malfoy?" she whispered with contempt, instantly losing her cool. _Ah, now, this is the Granger I remember. Feisty as ever. _They backed away and then stepped forward, shoulder to shoulder again. Their eyes locked.

"Enjoying a dance, I believe," he said with a smug grin of victory, taking the time to blink long and completely. _Victory of what?_

"Dances are not often shared between the likes of…" she searched his face ardently, "us." _I am a mudblood and you? A vile Pureblood who sleeps with a different girl every night. Enemy of my friends and enemy of-_

"Now, now, Granger, it is only proper that _men_ and _women_ dance together."

"If you were merely a man, and I merely a woman—" They stepped apart again and faced one another, shifting their weight, with two meters between them. She raised her hand, as did every other lady in the line, and Draco took it, pulling her close. Hermione did not expect the softness of his hands nor the gentle manner of which he drew her in. She lost her breath with their faces merely inches apart. He smirked as they slowly stepped in beat.

"Then we would not be having this conversation," he said, desiring to end the argument, "but enjoying the dance." Apart- and then together. And so it continued for another intense two minutes. Transfixed, they fought a silent battle, each trying to beat the other down with merely the fire in their eyes. Neither having the courage to speak the next word.

When the song ended, they both joined in the applause before backing off the line. As she worked her way back to her seat, she felt a warm breath on the back of her neck. "Thank you." Hermione quickly turned around but no one was behind her but the swelling crowd. They all moved gracefully from one room to the next, stopping to make conversation here and there, or to pick up another glass of wine. Even as she took her seat, she thought on those two words, almost positive they were the words of Draco Malfoy.

-

He sat down and poured himself some of the wine on the table, reminding himself he was only 17 but allowed to drink nevertheless. The longer he sat there, thinking about their conversation, the more he became annoyed at it. He could dance with whomever he desired without ridicule. Who cares if she is a mudblood?

He stopped dead in all thought and opened his eyes. _Who cares if she is a mudblood_? Where did that thought even come from? She is _Granger, _the _mudblood. _He was Malfoy, a pureblood, of a royal line. Thoughts like those… those of disregard, were dangerous. Wherever this stupid desire came from, he'd quickly have to send it back to where it belonged. For Christ's sake, it was _Granger!_

He could feel the anger rising in his throat, but anger at what he was not so sure. It could be for Granger or his own softness. Or, it could be with his family and this sick mentality of Pureblood supremacy.

Again, he stopped himself. These thoughts were writhering in his head, behind his eyes. He grew a little wary of the battle that was beginning without his consent.

_She is my greatest rival. A mudblood. A curse unto the wizarding world, who just so happens to be blessed with a great pair of knicker-- _"Argh!" Draco slammed his hand down on the table. This small outburst caused a few heads to turn in his direction but nothing more. _Damn woman. She is friends with potty and weasel. She's made fun of me behind my back and in turn, is one of the centers of my enjoyment- abusive enjoyment that is. She is my scapegoat, my way to get a good laugh. She is NOTHING more._ He continued to try and convince himself of that until he caught sight of her again, dancing.

But the fact that he had to convince himself that she was _nothing_ made it all the more apparent that she was indeed something.

As the night dragged on, Draco found himself drinking more and watching her intently. When she danced, he noted with who and to what song. When she talked to someone, he studied her expressions, the way she never truly smiled or laughed with the fullness he had seen her do on many occasions before. And when she disappeared, he found himself distracted and a little undone. If he were sober, it would have bothered him how greatly an affect she was having.

"Draco," purred a sickeningly sweet voice. Two pale hands fell upon his shoulders and slowly began massaging. "You've been avoiding me."

"Pansy." Draco said it definitively and turned his head about, "What do you want?"

"Why, you of course. Its been nearly a week since you we've had a good time." She leaned down a little further, allowing Draco to get a small taste of what he had seen already countless times. Yet, even though he found her often annoying, he could not stop his body from reacting. He cursed the alcohol that messed with his ability to think straight.

"I've been… busy," he grunted.

"Well you certainly don't seem to be tonight." Pansy came around, lifted the glass out of his hand and gently set it down upon the table beside him. "and I can already see some issues rising." He didn't have to follow her gaze to know that she was looking directly at his crotch where behold, his body betrayed him.

"Not tonight, Pansy-"

"I won't take a no," she said and who was he to argue? When it came down to it, she was a very good fuck. "Let's make our rounds and get out of here. My parents have gone away on business to the north, so the mansion is mine for the week." Draco nodded numbly and she helped him to his feet.

-

"I can't _not _think about it. Knowing that makes things so much worse. Everyone must be looking at me and pitying me and all sorts of things. I'm sure all the ladies here are having a fine little chat and laugh at the expense of my misfortune. Not that you would understand any of this. Why I'm even talking to you is-"

"I do not think you have to worry about such things yet. Everything is nothing. Rumors, guesses, speculation—you can't start acknowledging that people are talking about you or else they will do so to your face, ma'am." Her maid, Sophie, waved her wand around Hermione's hair trying to re-do the style it was just in.

"But I can not stand it! I can not stand any of this!" Hermione looked at herself in the mirror of the bathroom as Sophie continued to work.

"You have only two more weeks before you are free for nearly four months! We all fall on misfortune, ma'am, but we are women and must bear it like the pool of water. Calmly. Even if there is something rippling under the surface, everything must _appear_ well." She paused, placing a finger thoughtfully on her lip as she reviewed her work, "Especially you. Think of how kind Mister Caliper has been-"

"Has been _what _Sophie?" Hermione's voice quivered with anger, "Been kind enough to _buy_ me? To _force_ me to marry him? A man I do not love?"

"I meant no offense, ma'am. Just pointing out that he did promise to wait until you graduated."

"What good does that do, Sophie?" She withdrew from the sink and made for the door, slapping away the hand of her maid as she reached out to fix her hair a little further.

"It gives you time to make peace."

"Peace?"

"With yourself, of course!" Hermione let out a laughter that was not jovial but heart-wrenching. Even Sophie felt pity bloom within her chest.

"_Of__ course_."

"Well what of Mister Malfoy?" Hermione, with her hand on the door, froze.

"What about him?" Sophie, clearly uncomfortable, searched for the words.

"I mean, ma'am, that he is handsome and fit and the stories you hear-"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You go to the same school. You could at least, ma'am beg my pardon, enjoy yourself during your months without the intimate glares of Mister Stratford." Sophie glanced to her left and then to her right, knowing very well what she had just suggested could very well get her fired, if not killed.

"Are you asking me to commit infidelity?"

"No, ma'am, that's not-"

"With a man whom even Caliper Stratford could look mild when placed against? Sophie, you are out of line. Draco Malfoy is cold, ruthless, and as heartless I fear as Voldemort."

"Please, do not say his name."

"I could never, ever love such a man. I can barely tolerate his presence! I will forgive you for your tongue, Sophie, but you better watch what you say in the future!"

Angrily she departed and despaired. Was she too becoming just like Caliper? Just like Malfoy? The way she treated Sophie in there… Sophie, who was just trying to shed some light on a grim situation. Hermione wasn't sure why she reacted so violently to such a thought of _fornication _with Malfoy.

She laughed bitterly. _Fornication? _She could not even bring herself to think of it in plainer language than that. But there was no time to think on it further. It was time to put her face on for the public.

Hermione smiled, flatly of course, and stepped back into the ballroom. Within a minute, Caliper had caught sight of her and was making her way through the crowd—a look of pure hell on his face.

He was almost upon her when two people intercepted him, one visibly leaning upon the other for support. _Drunk, no doubt. Do they have no self control?_ Hermione knew that the couple were about to leave and so moved to stand beside the very thing she feared approaching. Caliper smiled coldly and snapped in her direction.

"Get over here. Our guests are leaving. Where the _hell _were you?" She could see his fists tighten. _Drunk__as well? Again?_ She sighed inwardly and turned to look at the departing guests.

It was there that everything was almost lost, her self control that is. Draco Malfoy vision blurred, steadied himself on none other than Pansy Parkinson. Her dress was sliding off her shoulder by the way he held her, and no doubt would expose her if she did not adjust.

"It's been a pleasure, Caliper. I fear that my friend here has lost his wits for the time being. I'll be taking him home now before he does anymore damage to himself." Caliper let out a laugh that made Hermione's skin crawl.

"He's seventeen. He deserves to go wild. I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself. Don't be a stranger! Come visit!" Caliper gave her a small wink that she returned with an all knowing smile. Hermione picked up the little cues and mentally noted to herself that now Caliper was even sleeping with Pansy.

As they moved passed them, Draco's shoulder brushed Hermione's one last time and he reached out to grab her arm. He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it thoughtfully. Caliper looked at him darkly, observing how Draco looked at Hermione deeply. Pansy shook him and pulled him out of sight. As soon as they were out of ear, however, Caliper took Hermione by the arm and drew her close. She winced at the pain of his grip.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" she replied, pretending she had no clue what he was asking. But she had saw it too, that look of, dare she say, _longing_, in his eyes. Hermione convinced herself however that it was the alcohol.

"You better not be cheating on me, woman, or else I'll-"

"OR else you'll what?" Hermione felt her heart leap to her throat. "You shouldn't be preaching to me about loyalty when you yourself are such an infidel!" As she spoke the words she instantly regretted them. The anger in his eyes cooled off temporarily and she knew that it would be much worse later.

When he spoke, he spoke with death in his voice, "Watch your mouth, Granger, less I cut out your tongue. You will _not_ speak to me like that in public so help me god. I have no fear of using the Unforgivables. I have no fear of striking my own wife, as is my right. We will _talk_ later."

She watched him go off, and as he did, she mouthed the words _I am not your wife _silently to his back.


	2. Beneath the Surface

Beneath the Surface

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Authors Note: Just read and review! Thanks to all who have already! I wanted to make this chapter longer but best decided to update and save what was coming for chapter three. See you in a week.

_"The heart of the jealous knows the best and most satisfying love, that of the other's bed, where the rival perfects the lover's imperfections."_-Djuna Barnes

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Only a few of the guests remained when the large grandfather clock struck two in the morning. Caliper closed the door with a pleasant bow and then hurried the servants to their work. His voice, hoarse from the drinking, filled the empty spaces of the house. Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin when he turned suddenly, bringing his face inches within her own.

"Now," he said, his voice softening to a frightening beckon, "we have something to finish." With an evil grin, he turned on his heel swiftly and proceeded up the large stair that filled the lobby. Hermione didn't have to be told to follow. She knew exactly how the rest of the night was going to pan out—Caliper insisting and herself denying. Halfheartedly she wished that Pansy had stayed the night to tame the beast.

Delaying the inevitable, Hermione moved into the large ballroom. She found her eyes lingering upon the spot where Draco had earlier departed. A shiver ran up her spine as the lights flickered off and she was left in the darkness of the room. She could still feel his fingertips on her arm, could still see the look in his eye. _What was that look?_

The mansion was as silent as the earth now, almost as if it were anticipating what was about to come.

-

The double doors to his room were left slightly ajar, allowing a soft light to flower around its edges. Hermione took a deep breath, pushed open the left oak door, and shut it quietly behind her. It was a dim space, lit by flickering candles near floor to near-ceiling windows that then lead to balconies. Long velvet drapes were pulled open and tied with golden tassels. She glanced at the moon and wondered much to her own surprise, if Draco Malfoy was doing the same.

She took only a few steps into the dim space before a pair of hands gently caressed her back, easing off the shoulders of her dress.

Immediately Hermione turned around, clutching the loosening fabric with surprise. Any softness that might have been there was replaced instantly by a look of determination. "You'll have me tonight, woman," Caliper slurred. "I have stayed away far too long and have forgotten the pleasures of _your _flesh." The smell of alcohol filled her nose and mouth. _He must have drunk even more when I was downstairs._ "This is what I _deserve._"

He proceeded to tease the fabric from her fingers, ripping her dress down around her hips so that she was left in nothing more than her undergarments. Silently Hermione regretted taking the few minutes to reflect over the night, allowing for Caliper to slink even further into his drunken stupor.

"Not tonight, Caliper. You're drunk," Hermione pleaded softly, knowing it was of no use. They had not slept together in over a month. Every day since the last she thanked whatever Gods were looking over her. _Where were those Gods now?_

"Do not tell me what I can and cannot do!" With this he stepped forward, forcing her back. "You _owe_ me this." Soon enough she felt the back of her legs touch the bed. Within the 

same breath, he was ravishing her. Though her body responded, she found no pleasure. Caliper was not there to make love, but to satisfy himself.

_Everything he does is done to satisfy himself! _Hermione vaguely recalled the first time they slept together. Even back then he had no kindness in his actions. _Why then does he desire to marry me so greatly? Just to have a woman around whenever the whores were not?_

His hands roughly ran over her curves, his kisses filled her with the scent of alcohol. "Caliper, Please…" Hermione tried one last time, knowing that he was already well beyond the point of no return. Once undressed, she had only to lay there quietly as he filled her. His grunts and moans penetrated the quiet house, louder and louder until he finally finished. Caliper rolled over and passed out on his side of the bed.

It took a few seconds for Hermione to realize that the ordeal was over. She lifted her body from the mattress slowly. His sweat lingered upon her skin and his taste in his mouth. She could feel her stomach clench with a pang of sorrow, but willed it away before it could reach her lips.

_He will get no tears from me._ Hermione draped her legs over the side of the bed, reaching over for the sheets to clutch to her body. She stood slowly in the darkness and moved to the bathroom door just a few meters away. Her body felt heavy, as did her heart. _To rid myself of him._

Halfway there however, she noticed the moon again, shining brightly. Instead of continuing to the bathroom, she moved to the balcony. Two glass doors swung open and she felt the cool breezes of night caress her skin. It whipped around her, sending her hair and the sheets flowing out behind her. As she placed her hand down on the stone balcony rail, it came to rest 

upon a book—the book that Caliper was reading. It had been a gift from Hermione studied it for a second and then, without any warning, thrust it out over the balcony and into the night.

_If this is all I can do for now, if this is the only sign of defiance I can offer... _She turned to the doors. _Things will not always be this way. _ And she walked back to _her_ room and slept well.

-

"…what a beautiful moon…"

"Come here you," purred Pansy, draping her arms around Draco from behind. His shirt was half undone and his pants severely wrinkled from the games Pansy insisted upon playing on their way home. "I've been waiting all too long for this…" Her fingers slowly danced down his front and just as she lowered her lips to his shoulders, Draco turned around and took control.

He kissed Pansy forcefully, hungrily—with such a hunger that even Pansy was shocked at his appetite. The alcohol from earlier had worn off and the discomfort in his loins was growing exponentially. Finally taking a much-needed breath, Pansy pulled away from Draco and began rapidly undoing her dress. Matching her speed, Draco slipped out his half-unbuttoned shirt and quickly moved to the bed where Pansy was already sprawling herself over it.

"_God_, I need this," murmured Draco as he descended upon Pansy, rubbing his hands over her curves, fingering the bare skin of her thighs. He paused, lingering over her breasts, breathing heavily. For a second Pansy thought she caught a look of desperation in his eyes. _Peculiar. _She would have wondered further if Draco hadn't, at that very instance, bit softly into the flesh of her neck, causing her to moan softly.

-

After an antagonizing ten minutes filled with kisses and caresses, Draco at last kicked off his pants and positioned himself between Pansy's legs. But he did not enter. Feeling this unexpected hesitation, her eyes bolted open with an incredulous look.

"Well, don't make me wait any longer," she croaked, barely, her body overloading from the pleasure and need. He merely smirked coolly back. _This_ was how he knew he was in control. _Any time, I could walk away, any time. Any time at all. _Yet, even as Draco reassured himself, tonight he was not completely sure. There was something deep within him that had to be satiated. Something that he very well may be helpless to deny.

Pansy's hands shot up to coax Draco's body to concede just as Draco plunged within her.

The sun was rising when Pansy finally fell, breathless, to the bed. Draco collapsed beside her, glistening with sweat. If there was one thing he could say about Pansy, it was that she never tired. She knew exactly how to pleasure a man, what to say, and how to move. Many times throughout the night Draco would awaken from a brief bout of sleeping to find her tongue dancing below his belt, and he would graciously indulge her desires.

-

It was nearly noon when Draco awoke to the moaning of the bedsprings. Pansy had just rose from his side and moved to a small table in her room where a tray had been laid out. On it were a variety of pastries, two cups, and a pot of tea. He turned over and propped himself up on his arm, allowing his golden hair to hang loosely about his face.

"That was wonderful Draco," said Pansy smoothly, "You really should come over more often." As she spoke she poured herself a cup of the lukewarm tea.

"I thought you were with someone now. It wouldn't at all be proper." Pansy snorted at this, barely swallowing the liquid in her mouth.

"Since when have you _ever_ cared about being proper, Draco Malfoy?"

"Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf," he said, waving his hand lazily about as if he were swatting a fly. It was all nonsense of course. He was practically untouchable. He had free rein to pick and pleasure whomever he chose, regardless of claims already staked. Pansy, however, must have missed his blatant sarcasm.

"I _knew_ there was something different. What has gotten into you?" She leaned back into her chair, crossed her arms, and squinted in his direction.

"Nothing, what are you talking about?"

"Last night! Something was different. I almost couldn't keep up with you. It was like you were…" She placed her forefinger to her lips thoughtfully and looked up at the ceiling as if searching for the right words.

"I'm going back to sleep," groaned Draco, interrupting Pansy in hopes that she would just shut up. There were always downsides of a good fuck, and those downsides were often known as 'the morning after.' Pansy especially proved to be a headache.

As he pulled the covers over his head, he heard the door open and shut. Perhaps he offended her, but he didn't even spare a thought to it. Instead, Draco found himself thinking about what she had said. What _had_ gotten into him? He never felt this restless before, this _needy._

With those thoughts, he shut his eyes and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

-

Draco awoke next to the sharp rapping at the door. In his shock, he sat up abruptly and fell out of bed.

"What is it, goddamnit!" he yelled angrily as he stood to his feet.

"S-Sir," squeaked a voice obviously belonging to one of the house elves, "Excuse me, S-sir, but the Mistress Malfoy has sent you a letter. An owl has j-just delivered it!" Groaning loudly, Draco began untangling himself from the sheets.

"Come in, come in!" he said with disgust. He had told his mother on various occasions not to bother him while he was 'on leave' from the house. _This better be good. _The door opened and the house elf stepped inside the room with a thinly folded piece of parchment. It shrieked, almost dropped the letter, and quickly about-faced.

"Where the hell do you think you're going!"

"S-sorry, Young Master Malfoy, b-but you are not… are not…" It looked sideways, grabbed the nearest object, and began beating himself over the head. "Bad Enni! Bad, bad!" Draco watched the little creature with confusion.

"Stop that!" Draco demanded, "Just stop that immediately! I won't have you beating yourself up for me." He shook his head and massaged his temple, aggravated. "Come here and give me the letter."

"B-but s-sir, you're not… dr-dressed!" Draco looked down on himself in sudden realization.

"_Shit,_" he murmured, "Well then, leave the damn letter on that table there and go." Within seconds the door was shut and the room was empty. Instead of going over to read the letter, he searched for his clothes which he had hastily discarded in carnal need last night. It was only after dressing and devouring the remainder of the pastries from earlier, did he open the letter from his mum.

Most of it was just her scolding him for staying out yet again; nonsense that filled nearly the whole page about the 'necessity to maintain social image' and to exercise proper behavior. 

Draco was reaching for his wand to burn the parchment when his eyes settled on the last two lines. Tonight at eight was a dinner party at the House of Zabini, his good friend Blaise.

Usually Draco would take a pass on these types of socials. The thought of having to spend nearly four hours in one space with people he could barely count worthy of his respect was nauseating. But he could not bail on his best mate Blaise.

He looked to the clock hanging over the bedroom fireplace and cursed silently. It was nearly three in the afternoon. Not wanting to run into Pansy, he moved to one of the windows and thrust it open. The worst part about Pansy's house was that she had an anti-apparition spell cast over the whole place. Draco would have to get at least a mile away from the house before he could apparate home.

Yet, despite the fact that he had that mile-long walk ahead of him, he felt oddly satisfied. Whatever had unsettled him last night was nearly forgotten.

And from the window Pansy watched him walk down the dirt road that led up to her mansion. For a second she briefly considered taking offense at his quick departure and casual indifference. He didn't even bother to say good-bye! It took only a moment for her, though, to decide against such foolishness. Draco was an unpredictable rogue and, despite how much Pansy had always longed to be, she knew she would never be the one to tame him.

_Though_, he would be back in her bed well within a fortnight.

-

Sophie was busy about the room when Hermione finally woke up around midday. The bathtub was filled with hot water for her as well as a meal in the kitchens waiting to be magicked forth.

"Thank you Sophie," Hermione said with a warm smile. To her, last night was nothing more than a memory. She stepped out of her bed and stretched.

"How are you feeling today, Miss?" Sophie asked, as she brought a towel over to Hermione's side. "Better than yesterday?"

"Considerably." Hermione walked over to the door to her private bathroom and pulled it open.

"Before you take your bath, there is something you should know." Sophie treaded carefully as she continued, "Young Master Stratford and yourself have been invited to dine with the Zabini's tonight, at eight. It is supposed to be quite the event; equal to the ball last night." Hermione paused thoughtfully at this. "The Young Master, I believe, will require your presence, Miss…"

"Yes, yes, I know," Hermione sighed and turned into the bathroom, undressing.

"But there is good news, Miss, there is," Sophie added quickly, "Master Caliper says that you need not arrive with him."

"What do you mean, 'need not arrive with him?'" Hermione called from the bathroom. Sophie heard the movement of water.

"It means you may arrive, and leave, at separate times."

"Translation, really, is that he will have _other plans_ tonight."

"Well, ah…"

"Good riddance." Silence fell in the room and Sophie nervously played with her skirt, unsure of what to say.

"Um, Miss, do you need anything else?"

"Oh, sorry, no Sophie. I'll be fine."

"What about a dress for tonight?"

"I'll figure it out, don't worry. _Really._" Sophie, not inclined to argue with Hermione, nodded quietly to herself and proceeded out of the bedroom.

Downstairs Caliper was sitting in his study, preparing to apparate to Gringots. He gathered a couple papers in his hands and rose to his feet. With a tiny 'pop!' he disappeared from the room.

He reappeared in front of the large, gold-plated bank. The streets of Diagon Alley were filled with people bustling back and forth between the stores. It was only two weeks before Hogwarts would begin term. As he thought this, he realized that eventually Hermione would have to get her supplies at some point. He shrugged the thought from his mind and proceeded into the bank.

Goblins hobbled back and forth carting large portions of gold and others speaking rapidly with customers. It was a flurry of business, but as soon as Caliper entered, one Goblin in particular scuttled straight up to him. Caliper handed him the papers, gave him a second to examine them, and then followed the Goblin down into the caves.

After a quick ride, they stopped in front of a small vault labeled 768; Hermione Granger's vault.


End file.
